


The People in Your Neighborhood

by mizface



Series: Rising Sun [5]
Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gargoyles, Gen, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29762457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizface/pseuds/mizface
Summary: A collection of one-shots to expand on the Rising Sun universe. Each chapter is a complete ficlet. Unless otherwise noted all take place after Rising Sun. This will be added to as the muse allows. Tags, and possibly the rating, will change as needed.
Relationships: Benton Fraser & Ray Vecchio, Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Series: Rising Sun [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/333769
Comments: 13
Kudos: 6





	1. Sweet Tooth

**Author's Note:**

> So I wanted to work on world-building for Rising Sun, as Hazelwho and I have thought A LOT about the Bumper District and its residents. Some of these characters might just make an appearance in a later, larger fic. Some are just because they wanted to live there, and who am I to say no?

Fraser opened the door to the roof and stopped, surprised by what he saw. “Ray, are you gardening?”

Ray looked up from where he was kneeling, trowel in hand and a grin on his face. “What gave it away?” he asked, waving toward the boxed off area filled with dirt and the flat of tiny green plants next to it.

“I didn’t realize you had a green thumb.” Fraser moved to where Ray was and knelt beside him to inspect the plants.

“I don’t, not for much. But some things are better home grown, which as long as they’re small are pretty doable. Had a rooftop garden for years.” He nodded toward the plants. “These have been growing from seeds down in my workshop, but now it’s warm enough I can transplant them up here.”

“So these are herbs for your work, then?”

Ray shook his head, and made a sad tsking sound. “I thought Mounties were supposed to be good at plant ID and all that outdoor jazz.”

“I’ll have you know I excel at woodcraft,” Fraser countered. “But given that you work with a variety of unique plants, I think my ignorance can be forgiven.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, standing and brushing the dirt from his hands. “To answer your question, while I do grow the occasional plant for work-type purposes, most do better closer to mother earth. These, my friend, are peppers. Chili peppers, to be a little more precise. Couple of different kinds.”

Ray offered Fraser his hand and Fraser took it, standing. “I also didn’t realize you cooked. In fact, I don’t really recall your ever cooking.”

“Hey, you haven’t known me that long! Yeah I can cook. Rather not, most of the time, but I can get by, and haven’t killed anyone yet with it. Just wait until these babies are ready – I make a chili that’ll melt your eyebrows and you’ll still ask for more.”

“With such an appealing description, I can’t wait,” Fraser replied dryly.

“You'll see,” Ray grinned. “So, were you looking for me?”

“Actually, I was looking for Diefenbaker.”

“How does a spirit mutt go missing?”

“You’d be surprised at how easily it happens.” Fraser sighed. “I’m meeting Ray and wanted him to come along, but he’s nowhere to be found, and willfully ignoring me.”

“Uhm, I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but maybe I can help,” a gravelly voice chimed in. As Fraser and Ray turned to look at Nick, he shrunk in on himself, a sheepish look on his stone face. “I think it’s my fault he’s missing. Not _missing_ missing!” he added quickly. “Just… not answering your calls at this time missing.”

Ray stalked over to Nick’s perch. “Seriously, Nick. What did you do?”

Nick’s eyes widened at Ray’s approach, and Fraser could almost sense his fear. He knew Nick fairly idolized Ray; the thought of angering him must be very upsetting. “Nick,” Fraser kept his voice calm as he moved closer to Ray and the gargoyle. He put a hand on Ray’s shoulder, squeezing gently to signal he wanted to take the lead in this. “If you’ve any information, I’d appreciate it.”

Nick turned to him, a grateful look on his face. “It’s just, we were talking, y’know? Dief’s got lots of great stories.” Fraser nodded. “Yeah, so, we were just going back and forth, Dief telling me about places you two have been, and how different Chicago was. And I started talking about things I liked about the District, because I do! It’s the best place I ever lived.” He said the last emphatically, looking right at Ray, and Fraser had to hide a smile at how obviously he was playing up to him.

Ray made a _go on_ motion. 

“So yeah, so I was talking about the area, and telling Dief all the best places. I mean, it’s not a huge place but there’s a lot here, y’know? Didn’t want him to miss out on any of it.”

“And there was somewhere in particular you think he liked?” Fraser guessed.

“That’s it exactly!” Nick said, nodding emphatically. “I mean, I didn’t think he’d like, abandon his duty or anything for it, but yeah, soon as I told him about Dolce Bacio, he was pretty much done.”

“Dolce Bacio?” Fraser asked.

“Local bakery, across the park, couple of blocks over,” Ray replied. “You not been yet? It is pretty much to die for.”

“I should have known. His love for baked goods transcends all else.” Fraser shook his head, sighing deeply. “Can you please direct me to it? I’ve no doubt it will take an actual physical intervention to get him to leave.”

“I’ll do you one better. Thanks Nick,” Ray patted Nick on the shoulder, and Fraser saw the grateful relief in his eyes. For a being of stone, Nick was remarkably expressive. “Come on, Fraser, I’ll take you there myself.”

“But your gardening?”

“It can wait a few. Talking about Dolce's got me craving something sweet. Besides, I have the feeling you’re going to need back-up getting the mutt to leave.”

“That is a fair assessment. Hopefully knowing that he made us late meeting Ray will help. He likes Ray, and guilt’s a motivator I’m not afraid to use.”

“Good to know. And if you want to smooth things over with Vecchio, he’s partial to Angie’s abbracci.” Ray said the last with a wink that had Fraser wondering if Ray liked her for more than just baked goods. 

The way Ray blushed when presented with the cookies confirmed his suspicions.


	2. A Walk in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fraser makes a new acquiantance.

Fraser picked up his pace as he walked through the park; the light drizzle felt like it was ready to turn into a downpour, and he had no desire to work in soaking wet serge. He may not be able to catch a cold, but it was damned uncomfortable.

“You might want to meet me there,” he told Diefenbaker. “The smell of wet fur won’t win you any goodwill with the Inspector.”

Dief woofed once in agreement before blinking out of existence, just in time for the rainfall to increase. Not for the first time, he wished Dief could take passengers along when he traveled that way. Oh well, not to be helped, and at least it was a warm rain. 

Looking ahead, he saw someone sitting on the bench, an older gentleman that looked somewhat familiar, though Fraser couldn’t place him, eyes closed, head tilted back. He made his way over, wanting to make sure the man was all right.

“Sir, I don’t mean to bother you, but are you in need of any assistance?”

The man turned to him, opening his eyes. “I’m fine, son, but thank you for asking. Thought an old man sitting in the rain might not be all there, huh?” he asked, tapping the side of his head.

“Not at all. Though it is unusual.”

“I suppose it is, officer.”

“Constable. That is, my rank is Constable, though I’m not asking about you officially. Unless you had been in distress, of course.” Fraser stopped his babble and took a breath. “I’m just on my way to work. Constable Benton Fraser, at your service.”

“Albert Hanrahan,” he replied, holding his hand out for Fraser to shake. “Pleased to meet you, Constable Fraser. So, you going to ask about why I’m just sitting in the park in the rain?”

“I will admit to some curiosity.”

“Reminds me of my wife. She was a weather witch, and spring rains were her favorite.” His smile turned sad. “Been three years this summer, when I lost her. Coming out here, like we used to, makes me feel closer to her.” 

Fraser was at a loss for words; for someone who could feel other people’s emotions, he was still terrible at responding to them in anything but an awkward manner. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he managed to say.

“Much appreciated. But you’re going to be late if you stay on here with me. Honestly, I’m fine, nothing to worry about.” 

“If you’re certain.”

“I am.” He gave Fraser an appraising look. “There is something you could do for me, if you’re of a mind to.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Two things, then. First, Call me Albert, not sir. Second, if you’re a chess player, you could join me here when you’re not late for work, and when it’s not raining.” He gestured down the path to where a few chess boards were set up. “Always looking for someone new to play with.”

“I would enjoy that very much, Albert. Thank you for the invitation.” A rumble of thunder reminded Fraser he needed to move along. He tipped his hat. “I do have to go, but I’ll take you up on that game soon. You have my word.”


	3. Elaine's Diner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of history about the diner, and it's current owner.

There's an oven in the kitchen of Elaine's Diner that only she's allowed to touch. Any base ingredients can be put into it (as long as they’re edible), and the end result is, usually, mouth-watering, filling, and probably nothing like what you put in. Ground beef has become racks of melt-off-the-bone ribs, heads of cabbage turned into corn on the cob, roasted asparagus, you name it. She doesn’t know the full story of how it came to be, but it’s been in the family for longer than she’s been alive. She knows her great-grandparents had something to do with its creation, and that Buck knows how to keep it running. She's been told that the District made it through the Great Depression a far sight better than it should have; better than the rest of Chicago, maybe even better than the whole of America. While times were still horribly lean, no one starved in the District, and while it’s never been confirmed, Elaine knows in her bones it was the oven that did it.

Her mother’s side has been Gifted for generations, each woman’s slightly different, but real just the same. Her grandmother had had a knack for being at the right place at the right time, and sometimes more importantly, she knew where not to be. It’s how Elaine’s family came to settle in Chicago, some of the longest residents of the Bumper District, before it had even earned that name.

Elaine’s mother was magic in the kitchen, even without the oven. She won Elaine’s father’s heart with the best red beans and rice he’d ever had the first time they met. He’d been lonesome for Louisiana, missing home and family one cold fall evening. After that first bite, he told her often, he knew he’d found his new home, and the woman he’d want to start his own family with. The oven had nothing to do with that, her mother insisted, nor had she done anything extra to the food – having originally come from the bayous themselves, that family recipe was one she knew like the back of her hand.

Elaine’s mother had a touch of the Sight too, mostly centered on recent events around her, both past and future. She knew where’d you’d lost your cufflink, or when to wait a day for a sale. And no one could lie to her. To any of the Besbriss women – it was a trait they shared, along with a certain something that put folks at ease; none of them knew a stranger.

Elaine’s Sight was stronger than her mother’s, but no matter how hard she tried, controlling it seemed out of her reach. Anything big hit her when it felt like it, no rhyme or reason, and it was, thankfully, a rare occurrence. She could See little things, same as her mom, and that was enough for her. And sometimes it wasn't so much a thing she'd See as just get a feeling about. More than once, she’d made twice as much of a dish as usual, only to have a large crowd gather, maybe firefighters after a hard time, or the local police after a rough case, all tired and hungry and appreciative of a hot meal they didn’t have to make.

She doesn’t rely on the oven for most of her cooking, preferring having a good set of tried and true recipes to work from. She’s a whiz, having learned nearly since birth. And not everyone knows just how special the daily special can be. She doesn’t always offer it. Still, it's what she thinks is the real secret of the success of her little diner, the literal magic of the oven. 

But ask anyone around and they'll tell you, good as the food is, perfect as the specials might be, they're not why so many folks are regulars. That's all Elaine, her commitment to making the place welcoming, homey. A place where you could spend the day and not be shooed out of your seat, no matter the size of the crowd waiting, if staying there was what you needed. A focal point for the community that drew everyone to it sooner rather than later, helped them know, without knowing just why, that they'd found a good place to settle.

That was the real magic.


End file.
